The Darkest Flame
by Puppeteer of Hearts
Summary: [it's baaaaaaaaaaaack...] Eliwood in the Black Fang. [AU, expect anything and everything.)


_**Prologue Part 1: Scattered Embers **_

* * *

Everything around him felt soft, fuzzy, almost blurry. Rolling a bit and groaning, a cobalt blue eye opened a fraction to stare at a rough brown roof. "… w… where …?"

His voice sounded rough, and he felt the fuzziness start to climb over his consciousness again. What had …? He remembered being in the valley … a picnic with his mother while his father was away in Ostia … The boy could faintly hear voices at the edge of his train of thought, all of them sounding shocked and relieved. The soft white light of a healing staff's magic washed over his vision, making him relax as he felt the faint dredges of pain again.

"Goo … still hea… mostly … not an in…" the main healer's voice – at least he assumed it was the main healer – sounded relieved, but he couldn't hear all of what was being said as he fell asleep once more.

* * *

It was a long time before he could work his way out of the fuzzy haze of sleep, the pain mostly dulled. Letting his eyes open again, the boy groaned a bit. His head felt heavy, but he was able to move it at least. "Where … am I …?" He was still in the same place, at the least, but where was that?

"So you awaken, Young Master."

The voice was new – at least he assumed it was – and the red-haired youth turned towards it. Sitting on a stool with a piece of wood in his hands, whittling, was a large man with graying brown hair and beard. He was well-muscled, his build tall and powerful, and he dressed in leather and furs that seemed to be more for warmth than anything else. His eyes were a sharp gold-green, glancing up at the youth in bed, clearly waiting to see if he would awaken or not.

"… Who …?" The youth moaned a bit, trying to sit up.

"Don't force yourself, Young Master." The man got up and approached him, a calloused hand resting on his shoulder. "You took a blow that would have killed adults; the fact that you lived was sheer luck."

Well, that explained the throbbing in his head.

Groaning a bit more, the boy looked up at the man once more. "Who are you …? Where's …?" He could faintly recall someone with him, a name at the edge of his mind but he couldn't quite grasp it.

"My apologies." The large man gave a polite bow of the head, gold-green eyes watching the redheaded youth. "You're in the Dragon's Teeth mountain range, in southern Bern. I'm Brendan Reed, leader of a small mercenary group." Settling down again, Brendan gave the redhead a worried look. "We were returning from a minor assignment when we came across you and your mother in peril … Young Master Eliwood."

Eliwood blinked at his name. "… I … there were Wyverns …" Shivering, the youth went to rub his forehead when he felt thick cloth wrapped around his head. "…? My head?"

"You had nearly escaped up a cliff face when a Bolting spell struck you. You blacked out and nearly fell against the rocks." Sighing, Brendan nodded at the bandages. "Thankfully, my wife managed to catch you before such a fall, but the healers were still concerned you would die, or at best, be an invalid."

Eliwood gave a nod at that, his head throbbing. "That explains why everything's so fuzzy …" He sighed, blue eyes closing a fraction. "I … I only remember going with Mother on a picnic while Father was at Ostia for a meeting … an … Harken!" Eyes shooting open, Eliwood struggled to get out of the bed he was in. "I – I have to find h – gah!" Wincing as his head gave a violent throb, the redhead fell back into the bed.

"At ease, lad. The healers said you need a few more days in bed." Brendan nodded, easing Eliwood back under the covers. "You've been unconscious for about two weeks now. Your bodyguard is fine." Giving a soft chuckle at that, Brendan nodded. "He was wounded helping fight off your attackers, and refused treatment until the healers assured him you were as stable as we could get you. He's currently in the barracks right now; I'm sure he'll be glad to hear you're up and mostly well."

"Yeah … even if I can't remember much of anything." Sighing, Eliwood snuggled further into the fur pelt he had wrapped around his body. ".. Just him, mother and father and what happened, and a name …"

"That's unfortunate." Brendan sighed, reaching out and patting Eliwood's shoulder. He had expected something to have happened, but memory loss was never anything fun. "What would be the name you remember?"

"… Hector." Eliwood sighed. "But I don't remember how or why or even if it means anything." Curling up once more, the redhead sighed. "… Am I safe?"

"I have made sure that your location is not to be discussed by the mercenaries under my command. Desmond or the hounds yapping at him for more lands will have to comb this mountain range by foot if they have any hope of finding where we are at." To the man's relief, the young lordling seemed to relax at that. "Rest; I'll send Ursula up with some food."

"Ursula?" Cobalt blue eyes started to slip close at that, sleep coming over Eliwood at a fast rate. Brendan gave a wry smile.

"A young troubadour, about your age; she was the one who started healing you until one of our senior healers could take over for her." Nodding, the large man stood. "Rest well; I'll also let Harken know that you've awakened." With the final comment, Eliwood nodded and drifted off again. Biting back a sigh, Brendan exited the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

"So … memory loss?" A woman's voice made him look up. In front of him was a woman with blond hair and deep chestnut eyes, her armor and uniform that of a seasoned wyvern rider in blacks and greys trimmed in gold. Smiling at the sight of his wife, Brendan nodded.

"Yes, Maria … he only remembers a little of his past." Walking towards the stairs with Maria at his side, Brendan looked out the window. "But we should be grateful that he at least remembers what he does." Reaching the front door, he looked around a bit. "… Where are Lloyd and Linus?"

"Lloyd said he was going to attend sword lessons with the Sacaen wanderer that joined us a few days ago. He's determined to get better and better with his skills." Maria smiled, shaking her head. "Linus, however … I don't know." Opening the door, she blinked a bit as a brunet boy darted towards them, a foot soldier hot on his heels. "Speak of the devil … Linus, what's going on?"

"Mother! Father!" Spotting them at the call of his name, the boy raced to them, still with the foot soldier following them. "Aisha here has word on the situation between Bern and Lycia." Panting, Linus braced his hands on his knees as he gasped for breath. Brendan nodded at his son, turning to face the foot soldier. Despite her panting, she stood at attention as well, saluting the large man.

"Commander! Madam General! The Wyvern Generals have fallen in the attempted coup at Fortress Ostia! This maddening war is on hold for a moment!"

"I see." Nodding, Brendan turned to Maria. "Shall we gather up more of our forces and set our plan in motion?" Maria gave her husband a wolfish grin.

"Yes, let's get the corrupt dastards who planted the idea for this madness." Nodding, she looked down at Linus. "Go get Archeon ready for me, okay Linus? Then let your brother know that your father and I are off on business."

"Gotcha, Mother." Returning his mother's grin with one of his own, Linus took off once more.

"Aisha, go get Legault and the rest of the rogues, and head for the mess hall; that's large enough to gather everyone's attention." Turning to the soldier, Brendan waited until Aisha had giving an agreeing response of 'sir!' before turning to Maria once again. "Well, dear, I suppose it's time for the lot of us to get on the map to the general public, as it were."

Smiling in response, Maria patted her husband's shoulder. "Yes. It's time for the Black Fang to come into its own."

* * *

_(Fortress Ostia)_  
Uther of Ostia panted as he leaned against the pillar, nursing the bad wound that had crossed his face. It had been a lucky shot from a sniper, and he had been equally lucky to dodge it. It would leave a scar, however. Sighing a bit, the teenager lifted his head. His green armor was covered in dents and scrapes, and his tunic had been torn in a few places. His arms were sore and tired, but it seemed as if the fighting was done now.

At his side was a silver-haired girl in a brown traveling cloak, her hands covering the left side of her face. "I … Is it over …?" She panted out, making Uther turn to look at her. Swearing under his breath, the large teenager moved her hand aside. When he saw nothing but a smearing of red on her tanned face, his heart stopped for a second.

"Gods Luna, what happened to your eye!?" Cursing, he pulled out a medicine pack and bandages, setting about to tending to her eye. "Tactician or not, you can't go walking around and getting yourself injured." His lecture was cut off as the door to the main throne room opened, admitting a man that shared Uther's bulk and deep blue hair. "Father!"

"… Good, you are well." Sighing in what could only be relief, Lord Jäger of Ostia walked towards his elder son, limping a faint bit. "The fight is over; what's left of Bern's force has retreated with the fall of the Wyvern Generals. The dead and wounded are being tended to, so I came to inform this wing that the battle is over." Looking around, the Marquis spotted several armored knights headed towards them, several wounded.

"Father! Big Brother!" Almost on cue, a door to the west opened up, and a younger boy darted towards the scene. His hair was a brighter blue than Uther and Jäger's, his eyes so dark blue they were nearly black. While he was clearly the smallest present, he was still large for his age, and his face was currently wracked with worry. A set of healers swarmed out behind him, heading for the wounded. "What the hell?! I kept hearing roars, but I remembered you said to stay with the monks until the battle was done!"

"Hector, you're eleven." Jäger shook his head at his younger son. "It wouldn't be wise to have you in the thick of battle, especially against Bern." Looking around, as he spoke, the Marquis arched an eyebrow. "And where is Elbert? He said he and the calvary would take care of the forces trying to enter through the front gates …"

Ignoring his father for a moment, Uther sighed a bit and let a healer tend to the slash on his face. It had been a close fight, and his first major one. Turning to Luna, he was relieved to see her complying to words of the healer that was fretting over her. Like he had feared, it seemed like her eye was beyond full recovery. The student tactician didn't seem too upset, but he knew Luna would be bad-tempered for letting herself getting that badly hurt.

The thought was cut off as a loud neigh echoed through the stone, and both Uther and Jäger turned to see a few scores of calvary and paladins riding up towards them, a large blue roan in the lead. While the others stopped and dismounted further away, the roan and its rider trotted up towards Jäger before stopping, its rider sliding off.

"The few Bern soldiers that aren't dead or retreating have surrendered, Jäger." The other man spoke up, pulling off a helmet to reveal a man about Jäger's age. His hair was a bright scarlet, and a thick moustache framed a worried frown as he turned to the larger male, a hand on his mount's reins. "I lost about a squad and a half of men, mostly to Wyvern riders."

"Still better than most others would have lost, Elbert." Jäger gave Elbert a pat on the shoulder. "Word reached me that you took out one of the Wyvern Generals yourself."

"Yes." Sighing, Elbert ran a hand through his hair, sweaty. "I heard you took out the other two, Jäger" A wry smile quirked at his lips. "Now hopefully that rat Desmond will come to his senses. Without his generals, all he can do is guerrilla attacks, and those haven't been effective in the past. I shou – Marcus!? What in blazes are you doing here?"

Confused by the sudden change in Elbert's topic, both Hector and Uther looked up to see a young man with lavender hair riding towards them, orange armor scraped and splattered with blood. The shield attached to his saddle bore the Pheraen coat of arms, a white dragon wrapped around a pale blue tower against a navy field, even if it was hard to see through scratches and smoke damage, like he had been in a fight.

He hopped off of the horse a moment later, exhaustion written on his features as he approached the small group, looking around. "Bern attacked here too?" His voice was cracked and hoarse, making him clear his throat before giving a bow to Elbert. "My lord."

Uther didn't like the way that was said. A quick glance at his father showed that he didn't either, and both of them turned to look at Hector, who had turned when he heard Marcus's name. Without thinking too much, Uther grabbed his younger brother and began to drag him away from the adults; his instincts were screaming that something was wrong, very _very _wrong, and Hector was still too young to hear it …

Hector's protests echoed off of the stone walls for a few moments, Elbert waiting for them to die down a bit before looking at Marcus again. The cavalier's words made him nervous on too many levels, especially with what he had said about Ostia being attacked _as well. _"Marcus. What happened back home." Marcus winced; he knew that it wasn't a question, so no way to dodge around it.

"... There was an attack from Bern." The words came out painfully, the young man's eyes focusing on the floor between him and the nobles. "They managed to enter the valley, and … Lady Eleanora got out safe, as did Isadora – the men there said a few rogue warriors from nowhere started helping them in the fight – but they're on a ship to return to Caer Peylin until this war is done. A good portion of our palace guard was lost, but most of our rangers are still safe in the mountains."

Jäger swore under his breath; Desmond had probably ordered that attack on Pherae at the same time as their strike on Araphen. Pherae was just so much farther away from Ostia than Araphen, they didn't have word in time … At least Eleanora had made it through alright … However, something made him pause; what about...? A glance at Elbert's face showed that the other lord was thinking of it as well.

"Marcus." Elbert seemed to be hesitating, as if he was frightened of the potential answer he'd receive. Jäger hoped that neither of them were right, but when Marcus looked up at the lord, worry in his eyes, the redheaded lord drew a deep breath before letting one hand grip into a fist.

"Where's Eliwood, Marcus?"

_"What happened to my son?" _

* * *

**_Tori's Notes: _**_IT RETUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURNS _

_*shot*_

_And here's hoping it'll be a lot less silly from here on out. '7'; I just figured I'd post up the first chapter for the holidays. Sorry it's so short, though. (you can already see changes afoot! \o/ ) The first few chapters - this one included - will be right after the event that gets Eliwood into the Fang. After that, though, we'll jump back to where I started the first draft of this story. _

_Don't worry, exposition and world building via Harken will start next chapter! \o/ For now, enjoy your respective holidays~_

(also fans of the Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan can rejoice; registers umlauts!)


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